


Missing

by Teen_ZombieZ



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Missing Persons, Necromancy, Resurrection, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teen_ZombieZ/pseuds/Teen_ZombieZ
Summary: When Stiles went missing, Derek lost it. They took his emissary, yes, but not only. They kidnapped the wrong guy. Cause it’s also his mate.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 175





	1. Chapter 1

The day Scott didn’t come back to the loft was the day that sealed the fate of the pack. It had been several hours without any news from him. He had left to get food for everyone, then nothing. It didn't take hours to get Chinese after all. No calls, no yelling to warn the rest of the pack, nothing. That same day was the start of Stiles' relentless pursuit for his best friend, despite the protests from a certain person who insisted on waiting, and that there was no reason to worry.

"It's Scott, I'm sure he's fine, he's an alpha. The strongest of us,” Derek had insisted. His hand on the emissary’s shoulder tightened after he said so. He himself doubted the truth of his words, he just wanted to reassure his mate. And then, when he went to check the Chinese restaurant, he couldn't find Scott. The employee had confirmed to him that a young man with tanned skin and crooked jaw had come to order for a dozen people almost four hours ago.

"Derek." The human put his hand on his, still on his shoulder, and gently took it off. Caressing the skin now at his reach, the druid raised his golden eyes to plunge them into those of the wolf. "I have a bad feeling. I know you have one too.” He kissed each of his fingers before letting go of the hand, the cold filling the distance that separated them the most the druid was walking away. “I'll bring him back. Wait for me here. If I don't come back within 12 hours well ... well ... "

The young man thought for a moment, picking up his magic powder jars that only he knew how to use. Motionless, he was looking for the right words.

"Stiles," Derek walked over to him again. The emissary still didn't move, his lips silently mumbling the choices available to him in the lexicon of words in English. "It's not a good idea. Who knows, Scott may be coming through that door in the next few seconds.”

Stopping to mumble, Stiles tilted his body to the side to stare at the door that was behind the wolf for several seconds. It remained closed, which answered Derek's concerns in the negative. Stiles pointed to the closed door with a raised eyebrow before returning his attention to what he was doing.

"We have no proof he’s missing!"

"He's not answering his phone, and I can't locate him, something’s wrong. It’s probably even serious.” Seeing the wolf’s expression getting even more worried, the human quickly rectified himself. “Or it's nothing! Probably nothing at all, so no need to come, I can go alone.” Then he finally found the sentence he wanted so much to say by suddenly snapping his fingers. The sound echoed in the empty loft. "AH! If I don't come back in 12 hours, gather the pack and come and save me!” Without giving his lover time to answer, Stiles left a kiss so fast on Derek's lips that he only felt a slight blow of wind. And like that, Stiles was gone.

\---

Derek was right to worry.

Less than an hour had passed since Stiles left when the large doors of the loft opened, leaving a long, unpleasant creak that echoed too long in the large room. Since the pack meeting was done a long time ago, only Derek and Peter remained in the loft, the latter probably dozing upstairs. Derek turned to the door as soon as he heard it start to move, the hope of seeing his mate already back invading his mind. But he didn’t need to see the person on the other side to know the worst had happened.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Scott walked into the loft after closing the door, many paper bags in his hands, probably from the restaurant. The young wolf was intact, without a scratch, and had no idea what disaster he had just set foot in.

Furious, and above all worried, Derek rushed towards Scott who made a backward movement when seeing him. His red eyes glowed furiously. "Where were you, damn it!"

Caught off guard, the young man placed the bags on the table before raising his hands in innocence.

“I went buying the food, remember?” Seeing that the alpha expression still didn't change, Scott began to worry. "Where did everyone go?"

"The meeting has been over for hours, and you ... you were ..."

“For hours? I left just 15 minutes ago! ”

The supernatural tint left the pupils of the alpha as he tried to understand. Scott was not lying, otherwise he would have heard. The young wolf was convinced that he had only been gone for about 15 minutes. Something was wrong. Because Scott was anything but stupid enough to mix up minutes and hours.

"Do you remember if you came across someone suspicious?" Derek asked as he approached the bags of food that was still waiting on the table, looking in it quickly. The food was cold.

"No I don't think so ... Why are you asking? What's going on?” When Derek didn't answer, Scott started to get impatient. "Derek!"

But the alpha was no longer listening, he was on his phone and had already dialed the hyperactive teenager's number and placed the handset on his ear. He fell on his voicemail.

"Derek?"

Pacing back and forth, the alpha started again and again, and always came across the same pre-recorded message. Hi, this is Stiles, and you missed me.

"What's happening?"

Scott was now in front of Derek, immobilizing him instantly. The young alpha had his eyes glowing red, the concern starting to make its way into his body as well. Derek had to resolve, from alpha to alpha, from friend to friend, he owed him the truth. It was with anxiety that he didn't know he had that he murmured painfully the words he would have liked never to have said in his life.

"It’s Stiles. He’s missing."

\---

The emissary had been missing for a week. A pack meeting took place almost every night at Derek's so that everyone could say what they had discovered, or what they were working on. A week later, and no one had found any clues.

"We have no evidence he’s missing," Malia finally murmured that evening, actually saying out loud what everyone was thinking. Stiles had left searching for Scott and had never given any news. But to think that someone kidnapped him and wanted to hurt him was having trouble making its way into the minds of the pack members.

It had to be said, it was a quite complicated pack, since it contained two alphas as members. Derek wanted his own pack with his mate, but Stiles was Scott's emissary. Even if the human was Derek’s mate, he couldn’t bring himself to choose between his best friend, and his mate, so he himself chose to simply be everyone’s emissary. An intelligent choice, since he was the only one capable of reigning harmony and friendship between everyone. It was the anchor of the packs. And without him, it was like everyone got lost.

"He never gave any news," Derek was getting impatient. His other half was gone, and all they could do was complaining. Stiles may have been injured, or even dead, for God’s sake!

"Yes, and it's suspicious. You know Stiles, he's the first to text us when he does something. He even texts us when he's doing laundry,” Liam commented, rubbing his chin, thoughtfully, a small smile appeared on his lips at the thought of the strange texts of his clumsy friend.

"And then there’s my memory lost..." Scott murmured. "As if someone wanted Stiles to go looking for me, making me a bait... to keep him away..."

"But why take so much risk and make it difficult just to have Stiles?" Lydia added, staring at an invisible point in front of her, probably listening to voices in the hope of getting some clue.

“We already know all that!” Derek got angry, slamming his fist on the table. Everything on it started shaking, and a crack appeared on the wood. “We are no closer to finding Stiles…”

Scott knew how much Stiles meant to Derek. Losing your mate wasn’t only painful, but it was unbearable. He knew it. He had been in pain every day since Allison died. And he refused to let Derek experience this pain as well. And then, he owed it to his best friend.

"Leave us," the young alpha ordered his pack. “Continue your research, we'll meet again tomorrow.” Without arguing, everyone left the loft, leaving only the two alphas in the large room. The silence was all the more painful. Stiles was the one who always filled it. "Do it."

“Do what?” Derek turned to Scott, his expression of anger disappearing when he saw the young wolf. It was a huge favor he did to him. Hands flat on the table, Scott's head was bent, exposing his neck. For an alpha, it was the most humiliating sign of submission there was. Derek didn't need an explanation to understand. "Are you sure?"

“Stiles has been missing for long enough. Just… Promise me.” Derek nodded, hope finally dawning in him. “No matter what you see. Bring him back. Whatever it takes.” Looking up, Scott lit his red eyes. He was as angry and determined as Derek. The older of the two returned his gaze and approached. As soon as he was positioned behind Scott, he pulled out his claws and didn’t hesitate for a second before planting them in the young wolf's neck. He tensed up, the pain more intense than he remembered. Derek's eyes suddenly lit up as Scott's memories spilled into his head. Derek didn't have to search long to find the memory grossly erased.

_"Yes, then, I would like two Thai chicken, one vegetarian, one super spicy ..." A piece of paper was in the person's hands. Derek saw through Scott's eyes like a first-person video game. On the sheet was written what each member of the pack wanted to get at the restaurant. Then, as if Scott's eyes were a camera, he looked up and looked at the cashier. He seemed to be deeply bored and listened to the order with a distracted ear. Scott finished, paid for the meals, and left the restaurant. It was still clear outside._

_"Psst."_

_Scott turned his head to the left, where his werewolf ears had picked up a sound. It was a dark alley, too dark for the clear weather. That must have been what troubled Scott enough for him to let his guard down and walk toward the alley._

_"Who’s there?"_

_"Psst, over here, Scott."_

_The voice was familiar to Scott and it was familiar to Derek. He would have sworn it was the voice of ..._

_"Allison?"_

_It didn't take more for Scott’s usual caution to disappear. The voice of the deceased girl had awakened something in him, an imprudence that he hadn’t had for a very long time. Scott ventured into the darkness of the street, following the voice. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it disappeared, engulfed him in silence. The darkness surrounding Scott disappeared when he used his wolf eyes to see in the dark, illuminating the image as if he had turned on the light in a dark wardrobe, finally allowing him to see what was in front of him ._

__And what Derek saw was so terrifying he suddenly pulled his claws from Scott's neck and took a few steps back. The young wolf let out a sigh of pain and placed his hand on his neck before turning to Derek.__

__"So? What did you see?” He hastened to ask. But soon, the hope that the sacrifice and the pain was worth it was dashed when he saw the expression his friend had. His eyes were wide open, his face pale, unable to speak, in shock. “Derek?” Scott approached cautiously._ _

__"It's impossible...."_ _

__"What’s impossible? Derek!” Scott put his hand on his shoulder, trying to bring his attention back to him no matter where it was. Derek frowned before placing his eyes on Scott's. And the fear he saw there was so strong Scott felt his legs shake._ _

__"Allison ..."_ _

__"What?" Scott stepped back, shocked to hear the name of his first love come out of Derek's mouth. Especially since it had no connection with the current situation. "What do you mean… Allison, you… You saw her?” No answer from Derek. But yet, it answered Scott anyway. “She’s...It’s impossible ... She’s ..." He couldn't finish his sentence, the mourning still too painful for him to be able to speak reality out loud._ _

__"I know, she's dead," Derek continued, swallowing hard, swallowing the words he was about to speak with difficulty. "Yes, she was too ... She was ... It was ..."_ _

__"What? What was she?” Scott grew impatient, all the buried pain coming back stronger than ever. He could literally feel his heart hurt with each beat_ _

__"... Decaying ..."_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened? Where's Stiles? Why is Scott memory altered, and why did Derek saw Allison zombie corpse when he looked into Scott's memory? Will Scott find his best friend? Will Derek get his mate back? Is Allison... really dead, or did she become some sort of... zombie?

A few days had passed since the strange and impossible revelation. And since that day, Derek hadn’t stopped his research, more than ever worried about his mate.

_"What do you mean by ... decaying ..." Scott had to sit down after the news, unable to believe it. He was probably too shocked to stand up. Yes, that was the most likely explanation._

_“Like a zombie, her skin was pale, like a corpse, rotten... and her eyes were…”_

_"Stop," Scott raised his hand, unable to hear the rest. He mentally thanked anyone who erased this image from his memories. "How is it possible? It means that…"_

_"Someone have fun pulling out our greatest sufferings and turning them into a nightmare ..." Derek thought aloud, frowning, trying to figure out what he had seen. Give a rational explanation for the impossible. "I guess a druid can alter our perception of reality and cause hallucinations, most likely. He or she took advantage of your weakness, held you captive while Stiles went looking for you alone… ”_

_"It is possible," Scott murmured, listening with a distracted ear to what Derek was saying, still not recovered from the mention of Allison. "What do we do now?"_

_“You are going home.” Not agreeing, Scott stood up and started to protest, but Derek raised his hand to close the conversation. “Me, I find Stiles. I’ll call you if I ever need help. Stay tuned.”_

_"Okay," Scott didn't protest any longer. He felt that Derek's aura had just changed, it was impressive, dominant, strong. It was starting to get hard to stay close to him. As soon as he was out of range, Derek let out all his anger, and broke the table for good with a powerful punch._

* * *

Several days turned into weeks.

He went missing for weeks.

Surely a month since the day he left the loft, left Derek behind.

So long. Derek should already have been there to save him.

Stiles had entered a nightmare worthy of a bad horror movie. When he left Derek's loft that famous day, the emissary had signed his death warrant. He went to the restaurant, questioned the same cashier - it was like the guy was living there, always there-, and walked the same path as Scott. And that's when he heard it.

"Psst."

“What?” Stiles had spun, turned his head all over the place. It was getting dark, the street lights had just turned on.

“Psst, Stiles. This way."

"Allison ?!"

Unlike his werewolf friend, Stiles hadn't waited a second before heading headlong into the dark and creepy alley. It had to be said that, since he became a druid, like Deaton, he thought himself untouchable and super powerful. So, obviously, when he heard the voice of his lost friend, he ran to her without questioning the situation, or having the slightest doubt.

What a mistake.

Since he couldn't see anything, Stiles took his cell phone and turned on the flashlight. As soon as he pointed it in front of him, it was to see a decomposed face standing a few inches from him, a frightening smile stretching dry and discolored lips. Fear took hold of his body with such power that Stiles couldn't even scream. He dropped his cell phone that crashed into a puddle, still lighting up the dismal lane and most importantly, Allison's zombie who was slowly advancing towards him, dislocated. There was only skin and bones, her hair had almost fallen out and she was barely recognizable. But it was her.

Gripped by fear, Stiles could only back away, hoping to find the street light and run as far as possible from his deceased former friend.

"It's your fault ..." The corpse mumbled hoarsely as she dragged one of her legs, anger distorting her thin face. "You killed me."

Still in fear, Stiles could only shake his head. He tried to speak, but was unable to. Then, his back encountered something that stopped his escape. Turning to the obstacle, Stiles hoped for half a second that it was Derek who hadn't listened to his choice to go alone and who had followed him. But soon his hope evaporated when he met the malicious look of a stranger whom he doubted was an ally.

“Stiles Stilinski. We were waiting for you.”

Without means to defend himself since his vials of magic powder were out of reach, Stiles could only say a single word before receiving a powerful blow on the head that brutally knocked him out.

_“Fuck.”_

Too much time has passed since that day. The hope he had at the start, mixed with the blind confidence he had in his pack, had allowed Stiles to endure the first few weeks without much problem. But now… now he no longer knew. The days were lost with the sun on the horizon, the sun he watched leaving every day through the bars that decorated the window of the room in which he was locked up. The food was disgusting. He couldn't wash himself. He smelled so bad, he couldn’t bear himself. Stiles had every reason to be overcome by panic and madness. But there was one thing that kept him sane. The hope to see Derek again.

Stiles knew what he was doing here. His jailers didn't even try to hide it. They also hadn't tried to hide their identities. It was a pack, a broken pack. It contained only a few werewolves and an emissary. It was the latter who first kidnapped Scott in order to lure Stiles into a trap. It was also him who had erased his memory so no one would know about his plan. And it was him who desecrated his friend's grave. Stole her body. And performed an inhuman ritual in order to bring her back to life.

Why?

As a test.

Why a test?

Because the emissary wasn’t only mean, but he also sucked. Allison shouldn't have turned into a zombie. He had failed the ritual to bring someone back to live, he couldn’t complete it all.

So, that was why they tested the ritual on someone who didn’t matter to them. After all... He couldn't risk testing on the person they really wanted to bring back to life and fail on him, right. Tests were needed.

Why Allison?

Because they knew. They knew how much she meant to Stiles. And how guilty he felt about her death. He knew there was chance to fail. Failing on her was a plus for them, in every way possible.

Now you have to ask yourself ... Who do they want to bring back to life?

Their alpha.

Stiles was pissed off. No, he was angry. Infact, no words could describe how he felt. He could understand that the pain of losing their alpha was unbearable for them. But bringing people back to life was never a good idea. It was against the laws of nature. And above all, leaving their tests like that, in a state of zombification, not entirely dead, not actually alive, prevented their soul from resting in peace. And that’s what made Stiles the most angry. They could feed him with shit, leave him in the cold, locked up, whatever. But playing with death ...

No. Unacceptable. He would rather die than accept to participate in this ritual. But there was a problem. If he refused, the pack that defiled the corpse wouldn’t allow Allison's soul to rest in peace. They were going to leave her stuck in a rotting body forever. And that, he refused.

Stiles Stilinski was at an impasse.

"Freaking hell ..." He murmured, his forehead resting against the bars of the window. His tired eyes watched the sun disappear for the umpteenth time behind the horizon when the door of his prison suddenly opened. Startled, Stiles turned to the interloper who had just entered. Expecting to see the emissary, or a werewolf among so many who would bring him his disgusting meal, Stiles was extremely surprised to see Scott. Besides, he couldn't believe his eyes at first. No reaction crossed his face as the young human stared at his friend. The seconds passed without him moving. Taking the lead, Scott walked over to Stiles and took him in his arms.

"Scott ..?" Stiles mumbled against his chest, "Scott ..." Stiles started shaking against his best friend’s body, realizing that it was really him. He was saved. The nightmare was over.

"I'm here," Scott replied, hugging him protectively. His best friend was alive, but so thin in his arms. Anger invaded his body. Pulling back into their hug so he could detail his face, Scott frowned. "They're going to pay for it ..." His eyes were of a bright, aggressive red.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked in a small voice, still not believing his eyes. He wanted to cry, laugh, all at the same time. His body, weakened by the days without sleeping and barely eating, found it hard to bear the rush of emotion. His legs began to tremble.

"It's a long story. We have to get out of here before they notice my presence.”

Stiles let Scott drag him to the exit. He could already feel the wind of freedom on his skin and taste the meal he was going to eat. He hadn't noticed until now how close he was to cracking and giving up.

However, all his wishes of freedom were violently crushed against an invisible wall, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

"What ..." Scott groaned, knocking on the invisible wall. Stiles' gaze dragged to the ground and noticed a detail that wasn’t there before. A thin line of dark powder ran right through the exit.

“Mountain ash…” Stiles whispered.

"Indeed." A shot snapped in the air. In his arms, Scott collapsed. Stiles could only drop him to the ground, staring at the red spot that extended from the shot he just got, the bullet still in his body.

"Scott ... no ..." Stiles put his hands against the wound to stop the bleeding, but Scott shook his head. It was useless, he was going to heal, he didn't have to worry.

"Oh, you should be worried," the voice continued. Out of a dark corner, the emissary of the broken pack stepped forward, clearly showing the weapon with which he had fired. “Wolfsbane. A strong one, I made myself, especially for alphas. If the captive soul of your deceased friend hadn’t convinced you to help us... I think that now you have every reason to cooperate."

Powerless, Stiles could only rest his eyes on the wound, the blood still spreading on the shirt. When Stiles looked under the clothing to examine the damage, he could already see the the black veins of the poison spreading on the bruised skin. And the purple smoke that emanated from it was proof that the clock was running.

"Don’t do it ..." Scott pleaded, holding his wound on his side to hide the deadly damage. Useless gesture, since the human already saw it.

Tears in his eyes, body and spirit weakened by the new stress that got on the others, Stiles slowly got to his feet. And it was with a look of rage that he set his eyes on those of his enemy.

"What do I need to do?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has no choice but to perform the ritual if he wants to save Scott from death, and allow Allison to rest in peace. But things don't go as expected.

The ritual wasn’t simple. Even less human. It was unnatural. It involved a sacrifice, and even though it was an animal and not a human sacrifice, Stiles was heartbroken. There were also spells involved, a few druid’s powders… and then there was the last step. The druid performing the ritual... had to eat a human heart.  
  
“Why don't you do it?” Stiles complained when he settled in the middle of the pentagram drawn in red on the floor. The young man hoped wholeheartedly that it wasn’t blood. It was probably blood.  
  
To answer his question, the emissary groaned.  
  
"Ah, yeah, cause you suck at your job," Stiles snickered. As a response, he received many looks that glowed angrily around him. All blue. All guilty. "I can't wait to eat the heart, hmmm how tasty!" He couldn't help it. Nervousness had devoured his insides. He felt so nauseous it was unbearable.  
  
"Let's start. I can’t stand him anymore. Hope you don't survive the test, so I can get rid of you. ”  
  
Shrugging one shoulder, Stiles tried to hide the intense fear that had been just added to the nervousness. And that fear turned to poignant sadness when he understood what was going to happen. And why they used the term “test”.  
  
"What?" The emissary asked sarcastically, meeting Stiles' frightened gaze. "Did you think we were going to test your skills directly on our alpha?" He snickered. And all the other werewolves accompanied him in his madness. "You're going to take a test first. On your adorable, deceased friend. ”  
  
In front of him, Allison's body limped toward the pentagram, still dragging behind her broken leg. Stiles' heart filled with sadness and anger as he met his friend's dead gaze. He clenched his fists in anger. She stopped in front of him, laid down on the floor and closed her eyes, becoming the motionless corpse she should have been.  
  
“If it works, you’ll repeat the ritual on our alpha. Then we’ll save yours. Anyway, it’s not like you have a choice.”  
  
Stiles hated him. He hated them all. So much. He had a desire for murder, an anger so strong, the beat of his heart in his veins was unbearable. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at Allison's body and thought back to Scott dying in a cold room, alone. If he succeeded ... If he brought Allison back to life ...  
  
"Begin."  
  
Stiles couldn't think any further. Because he knelt before the body of his friend. And he began the ritual.

\---  
Bringing the dead back to life wasn’t easy. And Stiles had learned it the hard way. The ritual had drained him of all of his energy, and it was violently that the wolves forced him into the prison he could almost call home, since he’s been living there for so long. The poor emissary fell like a brick to the ground, almost breaking his nose against a stone lying around. The young man waited until the door slammed and locked before crawling with difficulty towards his best friend. Scott had moved since he was shot. A streak of blood guided Stiles to the alpha a little further, sitting against the wall. His skin had turned pale since he left. There were large drops of sweat falling down his face tense with pain, a pain that Stiles couldn’t imagine. He sat next to him. When the young druid touched his skin, he was surprised by the body temperature of the alpha. It was way too warm, even for a werewolf. He was out of time.  
  
"Stiles ..." Scott whispered hoarsely, barely opening his eyes.  
  
If Stiles hadn't been so weakened by the ritual, he would have put his fists on the ground in frustration. Damn it! If he had had his druid stuff with him, Scott would have been healed already! Frustration made him cry with rage.  
  
"Stiles ..." Scott repeated. He was desperately trying to say something to his best friend. Probably his farewell. Words that Stiles refused to hear. No, he couldn't accept losing him!  
  
"Don't say anything ... Keep your strength ..." Stiles mumbled, wiping his tears quickly. He had to be strong for Scott. But also for himself. Because if bringing Allison’s already zombified body back to life had exhausted him so much… He didn’t think he would survive the next step. Bringing a corpse back to life from its original state would kill him. And his enemy was counting on it. Neither Scott nor Stiles would be able to taste the sweet taste of freedom, ever again. They weren't going to make it out alive.  
  
"Stiles ..." Scott tried again. His breath was weak. His pulse too, Stiles noticed by placing two fingers against his friend's neck. And it was all the more frustrating. The bullet used was probably not containing only wolfsbane. The process was too fast for that.  
  
"I don't want to be dramatic, Scotty," Stiles interrupted his best friend again, detailing his face to make sure he had it memorized in his mind for when he would have to perform the last ritual that would take away his last breath. It would give him strength. "But I'm happy to be with you. Dying is less sad when you’re with your best friend.”  
  
If he hadn't had his eyes full of water, which obstructed his vision, Stiles would have been certain Scott had just rolled his eyes, just after his farewell. But it must have been his imagination. Why would he react like this anyway?  
  
There was silence for a while. A silence where only Scott's difficult breathing filled the large room. The room looked taller now that Stiles was no longer alone, which was strange, because it should have been the other way around.  
  
Then a sound in the distance echoed to the two convicts. They stopped breathing, watching for the slightest noise that would follow.  
  
A strong boom. Then a scream. A werewolf howl that made Scott's pupils activate. The howl quickly turned into a painful cry. Beside him, the alpha tensed, and Stiles knew it wasn't the fault of the pain this time.  
  
The more the seconds passed, the more the sounds seemed to get closer. Taken by a sudden strength, presumably caused by adrenaline and fear, Stiles managed to get on his feet without ever taking his eyes off the door. Scott tried to hold him weakly, but his fingers only brushed against his best friend's. It wasn’t enough to stop him from advancing towards the door. A new scream of pain sounded this time so close that Stiles had a shudder of horror and stopped there. Silence followed the last scream for several seconds, then Stiles dared to take another step towards the door. At the same time, a new sound was heard, shaking the door, making it crack. A long crack stretched along the wood, as if something or someone had struck it. Swallowing hard, Stiles took a step back. It was better to be careful. Indeed, immediately after, the door fell apart under the inhuman force of the person who was behind. And when the debris and dust finished falling around, Stiles could see who was in front of what used to be a door.  
  
"Derek ..."  
  
The alpha was pissed off. His red eyes were scary, even to Stiles. He was dirty, covered with various dirt, but mostly with blood. Stiles backed away, surprised, for only a second.  
  
"How did you find me ..." Derek didn't answer and walked into the prison without saying anything. “Ah, whatever. You’re here.” The emissary used the last remaining force to cross the distance between him and his mate to jump into his arms. He hugged him tight, very tight against him, feeding on the smell he hadn't had the chance to smell in weeks. "You're here ..." Stiles whispered against the alpha's neck, finally letting all the tears come out. Tears of pain, fear, anguish, anger. But also relief.  
"I'm here ..." He replied, his voice so hoarse and threatening that Stiles had another shiver.  
  
Derek had his back turned to the entrance. So, hugging him, Stiles could see what happened outside of the prison. A bloodbath was reflected in his tired pupils.  
  
However, he didn't say a word, closed his eyes, and let himself be lulled in Derek's comforting embrace. It was all over.  


\---

When they left the warehouse they were in, Scott was unconscious. He therefore didn’t witness the damage Derek had caused. It was better that way.  
  
When they left the warehouse, they were four.  
  
They went straight to the clinic, where Deaton was waiting for them.  
  
Scott was quickly treated by the veterinarian. He was going to need rest for at least a day. For his part, except for dehydration and advanced malnutrition, Stiles was fine.  
  
Then there was Allison.  
  
"I don't know what happened ... The last thing I remember is the blade piercing me, then Scott leaning over me."  
  
It was unreal. Like a dream. To see her speak, breathe, as if the events that had taken place years ago had never happened. She looked good, she looked alive. Deaton examined Allison from all angles before arriving with a verdict that left Derek and Stiles speechless.  
  
“She’s in perfect health. As if nothing had happened.” His wise gaze fell on the young Druid who wiped away a tear of joy. Not only had everyone survived ... But Allison was back as a bonus.  
  
"I think ... I owe you my life," Allison whispered as she walked over to Stiles. To make room for them, Derek and Deaton stepped back. “Pun intended.” And there, the purest and most magnificent smile appeared on her healthy face, just before the girl took her friend in her arms.  
  
"It's amazing, what he did ..." Derek whispered to the veterinarian, speaking of Allison's resuscitation. As he expected an answer from the man, he turned to him, only to meet an empty, shocked look, staring straight in front of him.  
  
"Not amazing ..." Deaton mumbled, turning his head towards the alpha by his side, his eyes not losing a gram of shock. "Impossible."  
  
The two adults turned their heads towards the scene that was unfolding. Scott had opened his eyes and had just seen Allison. After a quick and awkward explanation, Stiles had convinced Scott that yes, it was complicated, but that it was indeed the one he had lost. Moving reunions followed where no one could hold back their tears.  
  
"What he did is impossible ..." Deaton repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Hope y'all enjoyed this mini series!


End file.
